


Doomsday and the Echo

by Inkkblots



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Brother Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkkblots/pseuds/Inkkblots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Supernatural drabble to follow in the wake of tonights episode (9x13).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doomsday and the Echo

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on Tumblr.  
> Named for this song; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQ3zQCBr-so

            “I wouldn’t.”

            Dean had felt his heart stop several times before, but this time didn’t feel like the others. This pain wasn’t white hot, didn’t sear inside his chest. This pain was ice creeping in his veins, freezing him from the inside out and slowing the world around him.

            “Same circumstances, I wouldn’t.”

            He had been burned, bruised, bent, and broken but it didn’t feel like this. Nothing felt like this, this slow creeping chill in the air around him that seeped into his flesh and into his bones freezing him to his core. He blinked and he must have missed something because Sam was gone, his back to Dean as he left the room. Dean stood for a few moments more, staring at the door, frozen in place as though in some trance.

Then it hit him, and then it burned.

There was the searing pain, the white hot burn that Dean had grown accustom to thought his years, though this pain was different; there was no blood, no bruises. There was no trauma, no bones were broken, no blows exchanged, and yet Dean felt such pain course though his veins. He clenched the glass in his hand, then turned and threw it as hard as he could, watching it explode against the wall.

Little pieces of glass flew like fireworks, then scattered to the floor around his feet. A physical representation of the pain that filled his chest and settled in his heart, little sharp pieces that cut like daggers if you tried to fix them.

Dean inhaled, a sharp shaky breath; as the air filled his lungs it seemed to add to the burn in his chest. He looked around; time seeming to return from the sluggish pace it flowed at moments before.

The world went back to being the same as it ever was.

Yet everything was different.


End file.
